"Leila, don't fear," he whispered soothinglyas she struggled against him. "It's Guy deWarenne.I've come to help you . . . to take you with me."
His voice had the desired effect, for she seemed to go limpin his arms, and for a fleeting moment he thought she might collapse. Holdingher close, he turned her around to face him, her features hidden by histowering shadow. As he removed his hand and gently tilted her chin toward thelamplight, his stomach suddenly sank into his boots.
"By all that is holy, you're not Leila!" Guywas so shocked that he released his hold on the woman and stared stupidly ather. From her glossy black hair to her tiny feet, she was a close replica ofLeila, but she was older, by twice as much, though the years had not marred theethereal loveliness of her face and delicately curved figure.
"Shhh, my lord! You willbring my husband's entire household down upon us," the woman admonishedhim in English, looking up at him with eyes that were without fear andglistening with unshed tears. "'Tistruly amiracle! You are safe . . . and you are here! God has answered my prayers moreabundantly than I could ever have hoped." She stepped back, her gazesweeping over him. "You have grown into a man, a knight. The last time Isawyou,you were one ofRanulfdeLusignan'syoung pages and could barely lift asword."
Guy felt as if he had stumbled into a dream. Perhapsthe opium had affected his brain! He was afraid that if he spoke a single wordthis beautiful woman, the courtyard, everything would disappear, and he wouldfind himself in prison again, awaiting death.
"Come." The woman tugged urgently on his armwith what felt like a flesh and blood hand. "We cannot talk here. Curiouseyes and flapping ears abound, always ready for mischief. Come with me, mylord. Please, we must hurry."
Strangely, Guy did not protest. He went with her to anarrow archway just off the courtyard, ducking his head as she led him into asoftly lit room. He took his eyes from her for an instant, his widened gazecautiously circling the opulent interior decorated in gold, silver, andprecious stones. He had never seen such luxury!
"You are safe here, Lord deWarenne,at least for a while," he heard the woman say, the sound of his nameshattering the bewildered haze that had settled over him.
His eyes fixed on her face and he grabbed her arms, asslender and delicate as water reeds. "Are you a witch, a sorceress, or anunearthly vision? How do you know the name deLusignan?"
"I am none of those things, I can assure you, goodknight," she answered, her gossamer veil slipping from her hair as sheshook her head. "You seek my daughter, Leila. She told me about you manydays ago when you were first captured. I am EveGervais.Mayhap you remember me, though you were only a child."
Guy's hands slid from her arms and dropped to hissides. EveGervais. Surely he was seeing the phantomof a woman long thought dead. "Eve . . . wife to WilliamGervaisof the Welsh Marches? You left for the Holy Landtwenty years ago and—
"Never returned," Eve finished quietly. "Yes,I am she."
Astounded, Guy searched her face, wondering how hecould not have seen it. Leila's mother! The two women were as physically alikeas only mother and daughter could be.
"What of William?" he asked, though heimmediately sensed her answer from her fleeting expression of sorrow.
"Dead these many years." She swept a slimhand around her lavish surroundings. "I have since been blessed withanother husband, Leila's adopted father. The physician,SinjarAl-Aziz."
Guy was dumbstruck, his mind reeling.
God's blood, then Leila was no slave! She had lied tohim. Why? Perhaps she was no Christian either, regardless of thezunnararound her waist, though it was clear from Eve'swords that she herself practiced the true faith. Yet she was married to aninfidel . . .
"Ah, there is so much I could tell you, my lord,but time is our enemy this night," Eve said urgently, breaking into histhoughts. "My son, RogerGervais. Is he yetalive? You and he were both pages underRanulfdeLusignan, who became Roger's guardian when we left for theHoly Land. You were friends."
Guy felt as if a fist had just slammed into his gut. Hehad been so caught up in everything Eve was telling him, he had not evenconsidered her maternal connection with RogerGervais.
Friends? Yes, he and Roger had been friends . . . once.
That had changed eight years ago when they were forcedto take sides in a barons' rebellion that threatened to tear England apart.Roger chose to ride with Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, the graspingNorman traitor who lusted for the English throne, while Guy fought for KingHenry alongside his son, Lord Edward.
It was an irreparable rift that had ended their closefriendship. After the royalists lost the Battle of Lewes, King Henry became ahostage while Edward and many of his knights, Guy among them, were imprisonedin Kenilworth Castle.
Guy felt his palms grow sweaty andatightnessgather in his chest from just thinking about Kenilworth'sdungeon and the tiny windowless cell where he had been held captive for over ayear. All thanks to RogerGervais. While Guy was leftto die in prison, Roger forcibly seized his lands in both Surrey and Wales.Twenty oddGervaisknights took up residence inWarenneCastle, and one even became his wife Christine'slover.
Only after Lord Edward, Guy, and several other knightswho survived their long and brutal captivity escaped from Kenilworth Castle andjoined royalist forces atEveshamto defeat Simon deMontfort was Guy able to win back his lands. Unfortunately Roger was not killedin the battle, but captured alive. He was banished for a time and his estateforfeited, but under the king's generous peace he, too, eventually regained hisfamily land, which bordered hard upon Guy's.
Their friendship, however, could never be restored.Roger's traitorous betrayal ran too deep.
If anything, their hatred had intensified over theyears. Both had lost knights and men-at-arms during numerous confrontationsuntil King Henry had intervened, forbidding them to make war on each other. Anuneasy truce had hung between them since then, yet the hatred had remained,ever kindled and ready to ignite at the slightest provocation.
"Your silence tells me one thing, my lord,"Eve said with a tremulous voice, drawing Guy back from his grim reverie. "Rogeris dead."
"No," Guy stated flatly. "He lives."At her cry of joy, at the sight of tears swimming in her eyes again, he knew hedid not have the heart to tell her of her son's treachery.
"And he is well?"
"Yes," he replied, wishing a bolt oflightning would strike Roger at his castle on the Welsh border even as theyspoke of him.
